


Blissful Ocean Winds

by undernightlight



Series: Gays in Space [6]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Culmets - Freeform, Cute, Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, SpaceBoos, nervous Paul, paul just having a good time and not thinking too much, sweeties, time for some drinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 05:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13404393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undernightlight/pseuds/undernightlight
Summary: Paul and Hugh go on a date.First kiss prompt.





	Blissful Ocean Winds

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first publication on Ao3 so I'm super happy to be publishing this here. I hope you enjoy this story!

Paul stared at himself in the mirror. He looked okay, he looked good, he told himself as he looked at his pale reflection in the mirror. Maybe a navy shirt wasn’t a good idea, it really shows how pale I am, he thought, as he smoothed his hands down the front of the crisp button up, removing any creases that may have started to appear. But he looked good, he kept telling himself, as the more he stared, the more distorted the image of himself became.

He never wore this shirt, short sleeves with the smallest white polka dots in regular diagonal lines, the ends of his sleeves turned up, making him look casual but smart. It suited him, but he never wore it. His black jeans also suited him, and though worn more often, they looked just as pristine. The cuffs were rolled up as they were slightly too long and he refused to step on them and wear down the hems; he took care of his clothes. Scuff-free shoes were evidence of this too; neat, tan chukka boots that were well broken in, but looked the same from when he’d first bought them.

He started dragging his hands down the sides of his thighs, trying to calm himself. It was only a date, he said in his head, over and over, until it became this mantra that he was sure would be ingrained with him for the next decade to come, but it didn’t seem to help. It was just a date, so why was he so nervous? He ran a hand through his hair, as light as his skin under the white lights of his cramped apartment, feeling the tips were still wet from his shower. He started to panic again, when a gentle knock sounded from his door and he froze. He was early, Paul thought, his hand still reaching for the towel, but motionless hovering over his bed. And when the knock sounded again, he realised he should answer the door.

He nearly tripped on his way, catching his foot on the rug, before smoothing his shirt down for the fiftieth time that night and opening the door. He was greeted with warm eyes and a breathtaking smile.

“Hey,” he said to Paul.

“Hi Hugh. Just give me a moment to grab my comm.” He rushed back into the room, leaving the door open, being mindful of the rug’s curled up corners, and nearly lunging straight into his desk as a consequence, narrowly preventing being impaled. He snatched up the device off his desk and went back to the door, Hugh leaning casually on the door frame, arms across his chest and an endearing grin spread across his features. Damn, Paul was in trouble.

He picked his keys from the bowl on the way out and locked his door as they made their way out of his apartment complex. Hugh was a few paces ahead of him as they walked to the stairwell, and Paul admired the man from behind, but not in that way. He wore black shorts with vertical white pinstripes, making his legs seem longer. A dark green t-shirt hugged across his shoulders, fitting tightly around his biceps, showing how built he was underneath, but showing enough to know it wasn’t a surprise. His shoes were much more worn that Paul’s; slip-on canvas shoes, the rubber soles clearly used to being bent and walking in.

When Hugh realised the Paul was not by his side, he stopped, waited for him to catch up, and then began walking again, keeping his stride matched. Paul smiled at this, to himself more than anything, and they left the building. Hugh took this opportunity to lace his fingers with the other man’s, and Paul could feel his cheeks heat, and he was sure Hugh could see that, as he squeezed his hand ever slightly when they made eye contact.

“So...where are we going?” Paul asked when they began walking again, Hugh taking lead, with Paul just along for the ride.

“I thought we could go to a bar, a club, have some drinks?” Hugh had clearly thought this through, but seemed to question himself now in front of Paul, looking almost worried about his location choices.

“That’s fine, perfect.” He reassured him further by brushing his thumb against the side of his hand, and tension within Hugh’s limb being released. Though Paul wasn’t one for clubs, the atmosphere, the people, the noise, he’d be happy to spend time there if Hugh was with him. And besides, he always enjoyed a good drink.

They talked as they made their way to the location Hugh had in mind, apparently a place Paul didn’t know, but Hugh was clearly familiar with. Hugh asked about how Paul’s research was going, if he’d made any progress, and Paul explained that it took time to make any kind of revelation when researching something so vast as spores that span across the entire universe, especially when it’s only two people, one of whom has decided to take a vacation back to Earth for another week. But he also said that he was enjoying the peace and quiet, not being distracted and getting the work done the way he wanted it done, and that he was enjoying his work. Paul asked how the hospital was, and Hugh went on to talk about the surgery he was involved in the day before, giving an emergency c-section on an Andorian with triplets, and how incredibly tense it was, but how beautiful it was to see the young babies, crying and screaming but being alive. Hugh explained that there was nothing quite like seeing a birth, but Paul said he’d pass on that one.

They arrived at the club that Hugh picked. It was already busy, but not over crowded yet, which Paul was very thankful for, as they weaved their way through the clumps of people stood around and those dancing, and they made their way to the bar. The music was loud, and Paul could feel the bass coming up from the floor, through his bones, at he relied on Hugh to get them to where they needed to be. When they reached the bar, Hugh asked what Paul wanted to drink, he replied vodka and coke, and Hugh ordered two and paid. Pushing their way through again, they found a small table towards the back and sat down. They sat close together, hopeful in not being barged as people tried to get from A to B; their legs were pushed against each other, thighs touching and Paul could feel the body heat through his jeans. Paul leaned into Hugh slightly, keeping himself away from the exposed channel of people, but Hugh didn’t seem to mind. They tried to talk, but it was loud, and only seemed to be getting louder as more and more people seemed to filter in from the outside world. They strained their throats practically shouting at each other when their faces were mere inches away, and this went on until Hugh had had enough, so he finished his drink in one swift gulp and excused himself, saying he’d be back shortly.

Paul sat there, now alone at the table, sipping his vodka and coke through a straw. Why he was using a straw he didn’t know, but continued drinking through it. He scanned the crowds, trying to see if he could find where Hugh had vanished off too, but he could not see him in the mass of people now conjugating on the dance floor, nor at the overflowing bar, or at any other table. Despite being in the club for less than half an hour, it had seemed to increase its holding capacity twice over, and Paul was starting to feel it. But quickly, Hugh returned, somehow managing to hold four shots in his hands, slaloming his way through people without slipping a drop of...whatever it was that he’d bought. When he reached the table again, he sat down with a thud against the chair, and set the shots of purple liquid on the table.

“What is it?” Paul bellowed as two shots were slid across to him.

“Just try one,” was the invaluable response he received. So he picked one up from the table and examined it, before looking over to Hugh who held one, and simultaneously, they took the shots. Paul winced as it burned its way down his throat, shaking his head as if to will away the burn, and it left a sweet but sour aftertaste. When he opened his eyes, Hugh wore a very similar expression.

“What was that?” He asked again.

“Kressari alcohol, the guy said it was strong enough for you to feel something but never got you drunk.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I’m not sure, but thought they were worth a try.” Hugh shrugged, as if it there was nothing to it, and Paul just smiled as he shook his head.

“Well, here’s to trying new things,” he said, raising his next shot, Hugh following, and they downed them again, similar wincing involved, but at least they knew what they were expecting this time round. He looked across to Hugh as he forcefully pushed the glass down onto the table, but he smiled at Paul, and he smiled back.

“You want to dance?” Hugh asked, leaning in again so their faces were close, and Paul could feel his breathe on his ear and neck.

“Wait until the alcohol starts working, I won’t care if I look like an idiot then.” Hugh chuckled and Paul could hear the rumble in Hugh’s throat as he did so, and he could almost feel it against his hot skin. 

He disregarded the straw in his glass now, sliding it aside with his middle finger, holding it place between his digits as he brought the glass up to his mouth and drank the remaining contents in a few gulps, the concentration of vodka increasing the further to the bottom of the glass he got. The glass made a dull sound against the table top, the ice cubes rattling from the mild shaking caused by the music. Paul couldn’t tell if the music was louder, but he found it harder to hear Hugh when he spoke, so he’d lean it close, watching his lips move to find the words that corresponded to the sounds he could faintly hear, and it took some strength to not lick his own lips from the sight.

It wasn’t instant, but after some minutes of close contact, Paul could feel the alcohol working its way through his blood to every part of him. Hugh had stopped speaking, and Paul leaned back into his chair, a lazy but genuine smile on his face. He was still aware of all that was around him, but when drinking, his inhibitions became nonexistent; he was more relaxed, spoke more freely and allowed himself to enjoy everything, instead of fixating on minor details. He was aware he got like this, he didn’t drink often, but when he did, he could be convinced to do things he’d otherwise refuse to do at risk of embarrassing himself.

“Want to dance?” Hugh called, and Paul made no attempt to respond vocally, just nodded, but didn't move. Hugh stood and took a firm hold of his wrist and pulled him up from his seat, leading him to the swarm of people swaying and flailing limbs in the air to the beat of the music. Somehow Hugh found a space large enough for two people to move around, but small enough for their bodies to always be in direct contact, and Hugh began moving in time with the music, a smile across his face, clearly enjoying himself, and Paul chuckled slightly. Quickly and effortlessly, Hugh took a hold of Paul’s hands, pulling them closer, bodies against each other. Hugh’s hands shifted, letting go of Paul’s and moving them to his waist, holding him close and in place. Paul laughed, his head tilting back and eyes shut, but coming back up and settling his arms around Hugh’s neck, resting comfortably on his shoulders.

Paul didn’t know the music playing but he couldn’t care, as he somehow found himself dancing, following Hugh’s movements, matching with the beat and the rhythm of the song. He wanted this to last, their bodies against each other, hot and sweaty but worth every second he breathed in his air. He could faintly smell the sugary alcohol on his breathe, but it wasn’t surprising considering how close they were, and Paul loved it. Hugh’s face was lit with an array of different coloured lights, pink and purple and yellow and green, and Paul watched the colours change and how each time, his attention seemed to be drawn to a different feature of Hugh; he was often drawn to his eyes, warm and welcoming, so warm, and looking into his eyes felt safe, like the world couldn’t hurt him anymore. Paul’s eyes also drifted to his lips, and it took so much to not linger too long, to draw his attention to somewhere else, his shirt, neck, eyebrows, he didn’t care. But that was when he was sober, and he wasn’t sober now, so his eyes lingered longer, and he didn’t know who leaned first, who made that first movement, but Hugh confirmed everything when he pushed his lips onto his, and it was bliss.

Everything seemed to become muffled, the music become some tuneless mess of sound in the back of his head, as his eyes closed and everything was focused on touch. His own lips were chapped due to his laziness and lack of self care, often sacrificing that time to work, but Hugh’s lips were soft, moldable to his own, and so very delicious. He could feel the force behind the kiss, the passion flowing through and out of Hugh, into him. Hugh’s hands gripped tighter to Paul’s waist, and he could feel his fingertips pulling at the fabric of his shirt, pulling all of him closer, and he could feel the short hair against his own hands, which had moved to rest either side of Hugh’s neck. Under his palms, he could feel the muscles move as Hugh would adjust his head and jaw, creating an angle more comfortable and more accessible.

Paul was running out of air but he was content to suffocate if he could stay attached to Hugh for the rest of his life, and it was only their third date, if you include that rude beginning at that cafe, and Paul counted that. He was in deep, and so fast, but he didn’t care, because he couldn’t remember when he’d felt this happy, this safe, with another person. He couldn’t think much of anything though as his lips worked against Hugh’s. Their lips broke contact for the shortest time possible, Paul inhaling best he could because he didn’t want to die, then this couldn’t happen again, and Hugh taking the opportunity to slip his tongue passed teeth and lips. They moved rhythmically together, whether from the music or to a beat of their own, but they lips worked and moved together so naturally and smoothly.

They stopped when they were pushed, some drunkard barging around, knocking into people, and they broke facial contact, if only to prevent toppling over. One of Hugh’s hands remained on Paul’s waist, the other now on the small of his back as Paul twisted when he was pushed, half turning to see who it was before Hugh’s hands kept him in place. Paul’s own hands had slipped down from Hugh’s neck and were now comfortably on his arms, keeping himself stable on his feet and refusing to pull away. They watched the man stumble his way around, moving people out of the way to get to his destination quicker, though there was no clear destination in mind it seemed as he staggered around in a circle before walking into a table, and making his way off in the opposite direction.

“Are you okay?” Hugh asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” and Paul turned his attention back to Hugh, “Definitely fine.” They exchanged a brief kiss, Hugh preventing it from becoming heated again, but Paul continued to smile, feeling like a love sick teenager, a feeling so rare to him, maybe only once, when he was an actual teenager.

“Let’s dance.” Hugh laced their fingers together and they danced. Paul wasn’t a dancer, he didn’t really know how to, but Hugh lead and he just followed movements and actions and it seemed to be enough for them to continue having a good night. They drank a bit more, nothing strong, but enough to keep them light.

Paul didn’t know at what time they left the club, but they wandered around together, hand in hand, and that was also enough, Paul thought. It was dark out, but the light from this district stopped the stars from shining like they should, so they wandered away from all the buildings, down to the coast. Small lamps lit the pier, the soft yellow orange glow was much more pleasant compared to the flashing lights of colour or the bright white of the street lamps. They leaned against the barrier, and Paul looked down at the sea, then up at the sky. It was all dark, small, sparkling dots in the distance of all of the blackness, and it was quiet; waves hitting rocks and the wooden beams, water swashing, the occasional bird flying past, but it was quiet, and it was all that Paul wanted then and there. That, and Hugh.

He looked over to Hugh, who was already looking at him with a fond smile. Paul looked away, embarrassed by something, he wasn’t sure, and he hid his face against his arm that rest against the barrier as he could feel his cheeks turning red.

“I had a nice night,” Hugh said, his tone soft and warm, and Paul looked up, keeping his head resting on his arm.

“So did I,” and he stood up straight. He seemed bolder now than he had back at the club, as he knew this time it was him that initiated the contact; he raised his hands to Hugh’s arms, running his fingers along the ridges of his muscles, a ghost of a touch, but Hugh chuckled, and he lifted his hands to Paul’s waist, slipping fingers underneath the fabric of his shirt, cause Paul to flinch ever slightly from the sudden cold touch, but he didn’t retract. Paul leaned in, and the touch was light at first, their lips just grazing, but it became hungry quickly, and Paul brought his hands up to Hugh’s neck, and Hugh pulled Paul closer, shifting his hips to create friction between them.

It was all Paul had wanted. So much was circumstantial: the ocean winds against them, the smell of salt and freedom, the sounds of distant parties and people, but it was this, this feeling of closeness, safety and security in the arms of another was what he craved, even if he kept it to himself. He was described as prickly, something he acknowledged and accepted, but he was human. He wanted to wake up have no need to move with a warm body against his, he wanted to know that someone was there to deal with him when he was in a shitty mood or when he felt he could run a marathon, he wanted that fairy tale ending where everyone was happy and there was nothing in their way, and he felt he could have that with Hugh. Despite knowing him less than a month, he was in so deep, completely infatuated with this man who loved Kasseelian opera too much and danced like the rest of the world wasn’t there and who smiled like his life depended on it but loved it so, and Paul didn’t know what to do.

Though pulling back, Paul kept Hugh close, scanning his eyes, looking for something but he didn’t know what it was, but Paul fainty smiled fondly, his eyes soft, and then he pulled Hugh against him again, wrapping his arms completely around his neck and shoulders and held him close, Paul burying his face in the crook of Hugh’s neck. This felt right too, just as much as the light kiss earlier and the deep, heated kiss from the club. Hugh felt right.

As if sensing a shift within Paul, Hugh tightly folding his arms around the smaller man’s body, pulling at his shirt.“Everything okay?” He asked after moments of silence.

“Yeah,” Paul muffled against Hugh’s skin, before retracting his head, staying close and looking into Hugh’s eyes, “Yeah.” He was saying it to himself just as much as he was saying to Hugh, because yes, everything was okay.


End file.
